


Still They Ride - A Sue-Pernatural Ficasode

by SuePokorny



Series: Sue-Pernatural Season 8 Ficasodes [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 04:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/895588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuePokorny/pseuds/SuePokorny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First in a 4-part series designed to replace season 8, but bring us to a place to launch season 9. Not exactly AU, but not conforming to the canon we were forced to swallow either. :) Afterall, if they can ignore the previous canon they themselves wrote, why can't we? In Episode 1, Sam devises a plan to save his brother from Purgatory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Act I

This is the first in a 4-story arc of what I’m calling ‘Sue-Pernatural Ficisodes.’ It’s my therapy to erase season 8 from my head and replace it with something that actually makes sense – with the Winchesters in character – that will get me to the same place to begin season 9. I’m not going to go into why I disliked season 8 (if you want to know, check out my re-write of Taxi Driver!) since my therapy worked and I no longer remember it. ☺ Thanks to my wonderful beta, Sharlot, whose insight and dedication made these stories much better than I alone could offer. I will be posting a new ‘ficisode’ each Tuesday, one act each evening Tuesday through Friday, with the new ‘ficisode’ debuting the following Tuesday. Now, I invite you along for the ride…

 

Still they ride, on wheels of fire.  
They rule the night.

Still they ride, the strong will survive  
Chasing thunder… through the night.

Journey

 

Still They Ride – Season 8 AU

Act I

Sam Winchester stifled a yawn, rubbing the itch of much needed sleep from his eyes. He let his gaze drift through the front windshield of the Impala to the large stone church on the corner, forcing himself to ignore the jagged crack running halfway across the glass. He had no doubt Dean would be able to fix the damage to the front end of the car caused by Meg’s crash through the sign at SucroCorp. Just like he would be able to fix the crack in Sam’s heart if he could find Dean and get him back.

After Crowley’s disappearing act in Dick Roman’s lab, Sam had wasted precious little time knocking over equipment and chemicals before doing as Kevin had suggested and setting the place on fire. He hadn’t stopped to check on his handiwork, but had learned of the devastating explosion that had followed his escape from the building on the news later that evening. The lab had been destroyed and the creamer or whatever it was that Kevin had been so worried about had gone up in flames with it.

At least they had won that point.

And lost so many more.

It had taken him days to figure out Crowley’s cryptic comment about the weapon having a kick. He’d stuck around, hoping to find some sign of Dean or Castiel, until he had deduced that they had probably been transported to the same place Dick had ended up.

And where did monsters go when they died?

Sam still shuddered to think of his brother lost in Purgatory. He wasted no time high tailing it back to Rufus’ cabin in Wyoming, digging through every book Bobby and Samuel had accumulated about Purgatory. After weeks of exhaustive research, he’d found what he hoped was a clue.

St. Peter’s Gate. 

There wasn’t much known about Purgatory, but according to Dante, human souls entered Purgatory through St. Peter’s Gate. They stayed there, enduring punishment for sins, waiting to be cleansed and accepted into Heaven.

Sam wasn’t sure how much of Dante’s narrative was believable – he knew Purgatory wasn’t just a holding ground for human souls, but a final destination for monsters’ souls when they died – but he hoped beyond hope that the Gate was real. If there was a part of Purgatory accessible to human souls, a part separate from the monsters, then maybe he could find that gate and be one step closer to finding his brother.

He knew if Dean was cast into Purgatory because of the weapon’s repercussion, odds were he hadn’t ended up in the human soul part. When were the odds ever in their favor? 

No, if Dean was indeed in Purgatory – and that was a big if – Sam had no doubt he had ended up smack dab in the middle of Monsterland. From what he could garner from his research, Purgatory wasn’t like Hell. Hell, he knew from personal experience, you endured. Hell was meant to be eternal, a torture with no escape. Purgatory on the other hand, had a promise of Heaven. So, theoretically, there had to be a way in or out – if you survived.

And he prayed to a God he didn’t even believe was listening that Dean would be able to survive.

The dawn was just starting to cast a golden light on the large wooden doors of the basilica. This was the oldest basilica in the U.S. and the only one that could be a possible location of St. Peter’s Gate. He’d driven non-stop to Minneapolis from Wyoming, knowing his brother didn’t have much time. He wasn’t sure if time worked in Purgatory like it had in Hell, but he wasn’t taking any chances. It had been three months since Dean had disappeared. There was no way Sam was leaving him there for a minute longer than he had to.

Of course, Castiel had been transported with him and Sam fervently hoped that the angel would be able to shield his brother from the worst of Purgatory’s natives. That’s assuming the angel was even in the same place as Dean and that he’d not been distracted by some monster bees or monkeys and had actually taken it upon himself to keep Dean safe. Considering Castiel’s mindset the last time he’d seen him, Sam wasn’t counting on the angel saving his brother again.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the car and quickly crossed the empty street. He swallowed hard as he approached the stone steps, his hand fingering the paper in his pocket that held the prayer he would need to open the gate. 

This was it.

Months of research, preparations, time ticking by… If he was wrong…. He shook his head slightly, ignoring the fringe of hair that covered one eye. 

He wasn’t wrong.

This would work.

It had to.

……………………………………… 

He had no idea how much time had passed. It seemed like only hours, yet it felt like a lifetime. Dean kept moving, his eyes taking in the shadows, moving in the dim light.

Purgatory.

Fantastic.

And why not? He’d already been to Heaven and Hell – why not complete the trifecta? When it came to crappy situations, the Winchesters left no headstone unturned. 

He’d stayed in the clearing for a while, not wanting to believe Cas had just zipped out and abandoned him, but when the angel hadn’t returned, and the shadows started closing in, his instincts told him to move.

He thought he could make out red, glowing eyes on some of the shadows but wasn’t sure whether it was his imagination at the time.

He had no doubts now. He’d run directly into some of the shadows, and found himself trapped within the darkness, his arms and legs mired down as if stuck in slow drying cement. He’d managed to get a hand on his silver knife and he thanked every deity he’d ever heard of that the metal had the same effect on the monsters here as it had back on earth. He still had his silver Colt 1911 and a pocket full of silver, salt and consecrated iron rounds, but it was the knife that had been keeping the shadows at bay since the first encounter and he hoped the Purgatory hot-line was making sure they stayed clear for a while at least. 

It was obvious the shadows were the souls of the monsters killed on earth. Vampires, werewolves, changelings, it was impossible to distinguish one from another, they all projected an aura of unrelenting evil – a darkness he never felt back home. The worst part of the souls touching him was when they stopped. He could almost feel his own soul turning dark – like parts of him dying even though there were no physical wounds. It was like the shadows had sucked his life – his humanity – right out of him. 

He kept moving, the light changing, the scenery altering, but the shadows inhabiting every realm of Purgatory he encountered – falling rocks, fire, fog so thick it was more or less impossible to see his hand in front of his face – at least Dante had gotten that part right. Contrary to what most people – Sam included -- would think, Dean was fairly well-read. He had studied Dante’s Purgatorium. It was kind of required reading when you nearly brought about the apocalypse. He’d never told Sam or Bobby, but he’d wanted to know what was so important that his best friend had…

No. He refused to think about Castiel. Wherever the angel was, Dean hoped he felt some kind of remorse for what he’d done. Beyond that, Dean couldn’t waste time of thoughts on him. He had other concerns.

Like escaping the shadows creeping in on him.

Like finding a place he could defend.

Like surviving long enough for Sam to figure a way out.

……………………………………….

Sam entered the basilica, stopping for a moment beyond the great doors to allow his eyes to adjust to the dim interior of the church. The space was massive. The room itself was rectangular, majestic columns rising from the marble floor to the vaulted ceiling. The central space was open, with rows of pews on either side and aisles running lengthwise toward the large raised platform at the other end of the room. 

A regal altar sat on top of the platform, sparkling light from an incredibly beautiful stained glass window shining down upon it from above. There was no mistaking the scene the glass depicted – St. Peter, standing before the magnificent gates of Heaven.

This was it. It had to be. 

The ritual had to be performed when the light from above was just right, casting the shadow of the stained glass gate upon the altar. He had the herbs he needed in a plastic baggie, which would need to be scattered before the altar and he hoped he had interpreted the ingredients correctly. The book he’d finally found was ancient. It had been buried in a box they had salvaged from Bobby’s after it had burned. Some of the pages were singed, but Sam had found a passage in an ancient language that somewhat resembled Latin and had managed to piece together the information he’d needed. 

It had taken a while to decipher the text. Much longer than he’d hoped… but he knew it had to be right. He couldn’t afford to make any mistakes.

Dean’s life depended on it. 

Depended on him.

He wasn’t about to let his brother down again.

He pulled the paper from his pocket as he moved forward, his eyes never leaving the spectacle of the window. The light shining through from behind made the colors so bright it was almost painful to look at it, but Sam didn’t avert his eyes. His entire body thrummed with anticipation as he approached the platform, the hairs on the back of his neck tingling as he took a deep breath and started to recite the prayer.

“O Holy Apostle, because you are the Rock upon which Almighty God built the church…”

Sam sprinkled the Holy water from his flask onto the floor before him, tossing the herbs he had painstakingly collected onto the small puddle. He knew that if this didn’t work, he would be at a loss as to where to turn next. This ritual was the only thing he’d been able to find. The only way to access Purgatory besides the blood and eclipse ritual Castiel had used. He knew there was no way Death was going to help him again – he hadn’t even tried contacting the Horseman. And he’d almost given up hope of ever finding a way in when he’d come across the small, ancient book.

According to the text, there were two parts of Purgatory – the part where the monsters’ souls went, and the part where human souls went to repent. From the human side, the souls could find their way to Heaven. That was where this ritual was supposed to take him. He had no idea whether the two sides had access to the other, but it was one step closer to finding Dean. And that was the only thing important to him.

“… I may be made worthy to appear before the Chief and Eternal Shepherd of Souls, Jesus Christ, Who with the Father and the Holy Spirit, lives and reigns forever. Amen.”

With the closing words, he looked up at the window, holding his breath as the glow from beyond began to grow brighter. As the light intensified, Sam forced himself to move forward, his eyes locked on the light, tears streaming as it became a blinding shaft of white energy that suddenly enveloped him. He cried out as the light seemed to burn straight through him, hoping like hell that he survived the ride.

………………………………………

Dean sat up straight, nearly bashing his head on the low rock outcropping he’d selected as his new ‘home’. He listened, his body tense, waiting to hear any sign of attack from the shadows outside. 

The little cave was just outside the area of dense fog, near where the huge rocks fell relentlessly, crushing everything in their paths. He’d made the mistake of trying to get through the area once, nearly losing a leg to one of the large boulders that rolled down at breakneck speed. He’d managed to wedge himself under another fallen stone, causing the boulder to fly over him, but his knee had been smashed under the weight of the protective stone and he was forced to turn back and find someplace to hole up until the swelling went down. 

The ‘cave’ was barely more than a small niche carved out of the base of the rock cliff, probably made from a huge boulder that had crashed down on this side at one time. Although there were few rocks that came down this side, one or two had fallen, nearly braining him while he attempted to get settled. The large boulders that still lay outside the cave kept the small shelter hidden and gave him a much needed refuge from the shadows. 

The shadows were still moving around. Dean could hear them slithering and scratching against the rocks, but none had come close enough to sense him and he’d hoped his luck would hold for a little while longer.

He didn’t know what had woken him from his light doze – he didn’t dare allow himself to actually sleep, but he needed rest if he was going to survive – but some kind of disturbance had brought him awake.

A disturbance in the force…

One side of his mouth turned up in a sardonic grin as the line from the old movie flashed through his memory. Being able to use the Force would be quite welcome right about now.

Dean pushed himself to the edge of the shelter, his eyes darting around from the cliff wall to the scattered stones that protected the cave. His ears picked up on the normal sounds of falling rocks from further along the cliff as well as the swish of the dead limbs of trees in the darker shadow forest beyond, but he could discern nothing out of the ordinary. Rubbing a hand over his face, he squeezed his weary eyes closed and pushed himself out of the niche. Using the rock wall, he pulled himself up, testing his knee, surprised to find that it held his weight with only a slight twinge of pain. Of course, he had no idea where to go. He wasn’t hungry or thirsty, which was strange in itself, and he wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he’d arrived and been abandoned by Cas in the clearing.

He was sure time had passed, he just wasn’t sure how much or how fast. It had been something he’d never thought about in Hell. Despite it feeling like he’d been there a lifetime, time held little meaning there. The torture was as endless as the days. No matter how much pain, how much torment he’d suffered, he would always magically end up whole, another round of agony all he could look forward to.

Here it was different. It had taken a while for his knee to heal. The fusty confines of his little cave had become as familiar to him as the lines of the Impala. Every rock, every crevice, a proverbial reminder of what he had lost. Of what he had little hope of ever seeing again. He truly had nowhere to go. Outside his cave was a vast, lonely expanse and, as far as he could tell, he was the only human soul, a target for all the monsters he had spent his lifetime delivering. Even if he could move out, he had no idea which direction to take, knowing any course would take him further into a wasteland he was not prepared to endure. This was where monsters prevailed. He was one human, outnumbered, vulnerable – he could probably survive one, but not both.

He had been tempted to call for Cas. Many times the words, the prayer was on the tip of his tongue. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The angel had abandoned him. Betrayed him one too many times. Despite his need to escape, to get back to Sam and the real world, Dean couldn’t find it in him to trust Castiel again.

Just thinking about the angel made his chest tighten in anger. After everything they’d been through, he’d just flashed out and left him here to fend for himself. 

Dean took a deep breath to calm himself. He wasn’t sure if Cas even realized what he’d done – the angel hadn’t exactly been playing with a full deck. But that didn’t entirely excuse his actions. If there was one thing Dean held sacred, it was loyalty. It sometimes seemed that he was the only one who did deem that particular act important. But right now, he knew his brother felt the same. There had been times in the past when Dean had doubted Sam’s devotion to family, but he believed his brother had learned a lesson the hard way. Sam would not abandon him here. He’d figure a way out.

Just thinking about his brother calmed his anger. It was like he could feel Sam’s presence. Maybe it was the fact that he was growing increasingly desperate, maybe it was just because he missed having someone – anyone – around. But mostly, he concluded, it was because he missed his brother. Missed the familiar assurance of knowing someone had his back. That someone was looking out for him. That someone cared. Whether it was his imagination filling in the hole in his soul or not, just feeling that Sam was still searching was enough to remind him to keep his head in the game. 

He considered moving away from his cave, finding an escape route on his own, but he knew it was hopeless. He had no point of reference, no idea what to look for. He was alone and lost, with no expectation other than making it until tomorrow. Tomorrow, his goal would shift to surviving another day. 

Waiting… surviving… trusting…

When they were kids, Dad had always taught them that if they were lost in a dangerous, unfamiliar area, they should lay low, knowing that help was on the way.

He prayed like hell that help was on the way.

………………………………………

Sam opened his eyes, expecting to find… well he wasn’t sure exactly what he’d expected to find but he knew it wasn’t Castiel’s face inches from his own.

“Hey, Cas,” he addressed the angel, awkwardly trying to move out from under him. 

Cas seemed to sense Sam’s discomfort and moved back, coming to a rest on his knees a few yards from the hunter.

“Hello, Sam.”

Sam looked around anxiously, his eyes moving, taking in the dark shadowy landscape. The light from the gate penetrated maybe 50 yards before being swallowed up by the surrounding darkness. There were even darker shadows, flickers of movement, stirring around the perimeter of the illumination, and Sam felt a chill as he watched them even though the air wasn’t at all cold. 

The air wasn’t really anything. There was no breeze, no… air… at least not the type Sam was used to on Earth. He felt himself breathing, but the sensation was habitual at best. He felt no resistance of movement when he inhaled, no soft hiss of air when he exhaled.

And he noticed that air wasn’t the only thing missing.

“Where’s Dean?”

Castiel shook his head, his eyes locked onto Sam’s. “I do not know.”

Sam pushed himself up to a standing position and narrowed his eyes at the angel. “What? What do you mean you don’t know? The blowback from that weapon sent you both here. It had to.”

Castiel rose, nodding slowly. “Yes. We were both transported here to Purgatory.”

Sam took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Cas hadn’t been playing with a full deck before the battle at SucroCorp, and there was no telling how scrambled his eggs were after being in this place for all these months. Knowing he’d have to drag information out of the angel, Sam silently released the not-air in his lungs, the familiar action serving its purpose. “Okay. So if you were both transported here together, then why are you here and not Dean?”

“We were not transported here together.”

So much for staying calm. Sam clenched his jaw. “You just said you were.”

“I said we were both transported to Purgatory together. We were not transported here.”

“This is Purgatory.”

“Yes.”

“Damnit, Cas. So help me…” Sam felt his fists tighten as his patience diminished. “Where’s my brother?”

Castiel looked down to the ground before answering softly. “I lost him.”

“You what?” Sam exploded, taking a step closer to the angel and grabbing hold of his trench coat. “You lost him? Damnit Cas, you were supposed to protect him. What’s wrong with you?”

Cas held up a hand. “I know. I’m sorry, Sam. I can’t even begin to express how much this pains me.”

Sam took another deep breath and let go of the coat, giving the angel a not so subtle push of irritation. He stepped back and folding his arms across his chest, leveling a glare at the shorter being. “Try.”

“When we first arrived, we were someplace, dark and cold,” Cas began to explain. “The area was inhabited by souls, evil souls. I left to find a way out, to make sure the Leviathan were not privy to out location. When I returned, Dean was gone.”

“Gone? What do you mean gone?”

“He was no longer in the clearing where we’d arrived. He either moved of his own accord or…” The angel looked at Sam, regret coloring his face.

“No.” Sam shook his head, dismissing the notion that Dean had been harmed. His brother was a survivor. He had spent the last few months convincing himself that Dean was alive and waiting for Sam to find him. He was not about to change his thinking now. “He probably moved off to find someplace safe.”

“There is no place that would be safe for a human soul.”

Sam gave him a look that clearly told the angel what he thought of his comment. 

“So why didn’t you try to find him?”

Castiel sighed in defeat. “I did. But the Leviathan can track me. I didn’t want to lead them to Dean if he was vulnerable. Since he was no longer where I’d left him, I had no indication where he would go, and unless he prays for me I have no way to find him. So I continued to look through the realms of Purgatory, and intermittently came here, hoping you would find a way to open the Gate.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “So you knew about the gate?”

“Of course.”

“Then why the whole blood and eclipse thing to open Purgatory?”

“I am an angel. Only a human soul can enter through St. Peter’s Gate.” Castiel said matter-of-factly. “Besides, I needed to, erroneously, get the souls out. I had no desire to get in.”

“Of course,” Sam sighed. Dealing with the angel had always been trying at best, now, with the state his mind was in after absorbing Sam’s hallucinations, it was like trying to catch bubbles with a hairbrush. 

Sam shook his head and turned to look around him. The landscape resembled an empty field, surrounded on three sides by inky darkness. The peripheral shadows moved through the gloom like waves on the ocean, but stayed well clear of the small pool of light directly in front of the gate. “This wasn’t what I was expecting.”

Cas turned to look at the surrounding area. “What did you believe Purgatory would look like?”

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. I figured the monster part would be dark and creepy like you said, but I guess I thought the human part would be… I don’t know… a little more friendly.”

Cas cocked his head and regarded Sam curiously. “What do you mean by ‘human part’?

“From what I could figure out, there’s a part of Purgatory for the monsters and another part for the humans awaiting entrance into Heaven.” Sam explained what he’d learned in his research, his breath catching as he saw the confusion on the angel’s face. “I take it that’s not true?”

“No.” Cas confirmed. “There are many realms in Purgatory, but the souls here are all ‘monsters’ as you put it.”

“But I thought that Purgatory was where human souls go to get cleansed or whatever they needed to do before being allowed into Heaven.”

Cas smiled sadly. “Your Dante got more wrong than he got right, Sam. The only human souls here are the ones that became monsters in your world. Some of them still retain a small bit of their humanity. That is why they are here. If they can find their way back to the human part of their souls, the will gain access to Heaven. If not, they will remain here for eternity.”

“So Dean is the only true human soul here? In a world full of monsters?”

Cas nodded. “Yes. Until now.”

Sam eyed the dark shadows moving about at the edge of the field. “And those…”

“Are souls that are very close to regaining their humanity.” Cas finished. “That is the only reason they are able to come this close to the light from the Gate.”

“And how can they gain back their humanity?”

“By making it through the challenges in the realms of Purgatory or…”

Sam swallowed hard. “Or by taking it from another human soul”

“It is possible,” Castiel admitted. “But it would not help them to achieve their goal. No soul could be cleansed if it was taken through violence.”

In a world full of monsters, that small tenet wasn’t terribly comforting. “We have to find Dean.” Sam stated as he watched the shadows roam the perimeter. 

“I told you, I cannot locate him and he has not prayed for me to find him.”

“Then take me to the last place you saw him,” Sam ordered. “Now.”

 

TBC….


	2. Act II

Act II

Cas had offered to transport them directly to the spot he had last seen Dean, but Sam had not wanted to chance missing his brother if he had been able to somehow find his own way toward the gate. He had no idea how Dean would even know of the Gate’s existence, but he needed to cover all bases. There would be no second chances. Either he’d find his brother and they’d both escape, or this would be the end of the Winchesters.

Cas was cautious as they made their way across the dark landscape. Sam found it disconcerting to see the angel so jumpy. Castiel had never seemed afraid of anything on Earth, and it scared the crap out of Sam to see him show fear now. There were shadows that came near them, red eyes blinking like ghostly fireflies. Just having them near made Sam’s skin crawl, he couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to have one touch him. They were drawn by the light of his human soul, Cas had informed him, but they had not attacked. They trailed behind, for a while before dispersing, leaving Sam to surmise they had decided his tainted soul wasn’t the treat they were looking for.

Not with his brother’s around.

Sam had no illusions about himself. He knew his soul, his essence, had been polluted by his time in the cage with Lucifer and the demon blood he had consumed as a baby as well as an adult. There wasn’t anything he could do about that. It was part of him and he’d had to accept that a portion of his soul was stained and would never be pure. But that wasn’t who he was. Dean had helped him see that. He was doing all he could to make up for his mistakes. His brother had forgiven him – clean slate. Whether he deserved it or not, Sam was determined to make his Dean’s decision a good one. He would do whatever it took to make amends.

Starting with finding and saving the one person that meant everything. 

Was that selfish? Maybe? But Sam didn’t care. Dean deserved better, and Sam was going to show him his faith in him had not been misplaced. 

A flickering glow in the distance cut the darkness. Red and orange light reflected against the black trees, making their shadows dance like the inhabitants of the realm. Sam’s head was on a swivel, trying to determine between actual and perceived threat. Keeping so alert had been exhausting, and he wiped at his eyes as they burned with fatigue. He hadn’t slept much since Dean had disappeared, dropping into bed only when his body and mind couldn’t function any more. Even then, as exhausted as he was, his sleep was tainted by dreams of his brother screaming his name, pleading for him to help as he was torn apart by every monster they had ever fought. Sleep hadn’t been his friend for a while, but the feeling of desolation that blanketed Purgatory had been pressing down on him, inducing a kind of fatigue he’d never experienced before. He’d only been here for less than a day, and he was already craving rest. Dean had been here for months.

That thought alone kept him going. 

Waves of heat overtook the chill as they approached the read light. Drawing closer, sweat dripped into Sam’s eyes, stinging them, his hair drenched, clinging to the back of his neck. On the dark edge of the forest, looking out, Sam stood still, unspeaking, unblinking. 

A ocean of fire flowed before them.

Red streams of lava surged, hissing and vomiting clouds of steam and fire that squelched and eddied against dark, jagged stones. The fire stretched to the horizon, flexing and spitting as a living entity. 

Sam had no idea how they could cross without being burned to a crisp. The rocks that jutted out formed a crude path through the magma, but it was treacherous, one slip and it was over. 

“It’s impossible,” Sam breathed, defeated.

“No,” Cas assured him. “Nothing in Purgatory is impossible. Difficult, complex, problematical, yes. But not impossible. “

“Look at this, Cas!” Sam exclaimed throwing an arm out toward the sea of fire. “How exactly are we supposed to get across this?”

Cas turned to look at the lava bed, his expression never changing from the stoic air he’d been wearing since they’d begun. “If we want to find Dean, we must.” He turned back to Sam, his eyes wide with question. “What are you willing to risk for your brother?”

Sam glared at the angel. How dare he question Sam’s loyalty? It wasn’t Sam who abandoned him in this place.

“I’m sorry,” Cas said contritely, bowing his head. “I have no right to ask you that.”

Sam’s anger fizzled. “It’s okay, Cas. I get it.” He did. Castiel wanted to save Dean as much as he did. And Sam would do whatever it took – even walk across a bed of fire. But he couldn’t see how wasting the time to maneuver through this obstacle was helping Dean. He hadn’t wanted Cas to transport them straight to the clearing for fear of somehow missing his brother in the overlap. But this? There was no way Dean would try to cross this alone. And Sam was getting more desperate by the minute.

“Fine,” he decided, nodding his head firmly. “Can you still transport us to the place you last saw Dean?”

Cas’ brow furrowed, not following the human’s change of heart. “Of course, but I thought…”

Sam waved a hand at the inferno before them again. “No way we’re gonna be able to cross this quickly, and I don’t believe Dean would try it alone anyway.” He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince more, Castiel or himself. “We’re running out of time, Cas. We need to find Dean. I can’t explain it, but I just feel like…”

“No need to explain, Sam.” Cas reached out and took hold of Sam’s shoulder. 

Moments later they were out of the sea of fire and back into another dark, dismal landscape. It wasn’t much different from the first, except for the sounds. There were groans, whistles, all sorts of disembodied moans that set Sam’s teeth on edge, If this was where his brother found himself alone, Sam had no problem understanding why he had moved out. It was filled with shadows, red eyes blinking off and on, staring at him from the dark trees.

“This is the last place I saw your brother,” Cas provided needlessly. “What do you propose?”

“We look for him,” Sam said simply. He kept his body turning, his eyes darting from shadow to shadow. Again, a few came closer, but none tried to attack and Sam couldn’t stifle a smirk. Apparently even demon blood had a silver lining.

“I have already searched most of the surrounding area,” Cas informed him. “Dean could be anywhere.”

Sam nodded in agreement, but something was telling him his brother wasn’t too far. He’d never been able to explain it, but years of living in the other’s pockets had given them a sense of awareness when it came to each other. Sam had prayed that awareness was still intact. It was nothing more than an itch inside his head, but it was familiar and it meant one thing: Dean.

“Split up,’ Sam instructed. He pointed in a direction, one his itch was telling him to follow. 

“Sam, I’m not leaving you.” Cas shook his head, his voice adamant. 

Sam turned and gave the angel a look of appreciation. “I’m not asking you to, Cas. I’ll pray for you every fifteen minutes, okay?” He looked at his watch, realizing it hadn’t changed since he’d entered the Gate. “Fifteen minutes-ish,” he corrected. Before the angel could protest, Sam held up both hands to suppress the argument. “I promise. If I find him, I’ll call. If you find him, bring him to me.” He spread his hands, imploring. “Please. We can cover twice as much ground. We have to find him.”

Castiel studied the human for a moment, finally tipping his head in weary agreement. 

Sam smiled his thanks and pulled his silver knife from his belt. Without another word to the angel, he set off in the direction his instincts told him. 

………………………………………

Dean had tried to doze, but found himself restless, his nerves unusually frayed – even for this place. There was nothing moving outside his cave, but his instincts were telling him something was different… something had changed. Pushing himself up from the alcove he’d been huddled in, he flexed his knee, feeling only a slight twinge of discomfort in the joint. It had been… well… he wasn’t sure how long he’d been forced to remain here, venturing out only to check the perimeter, making sure his hiding place was still secure. 

Walking had been painful, and he’d been forced to rely on his sense of hearing and innate hunter’s instinct to determine if there was any threat nearby. Other than the hollow clatter of rocks falling down the sheer cliffs, he’d heard nothing. It didn’t mean his hiding place was secure, it simply meant the shadows had decided to wait him out. He was sure they were still there, in the swirling mist where the two realms intersected, killing time until he made a mistake.

Maybe that was what he was sensing now? He couldn’t be sure, but he didn’t think so. It was something else, something more… familiar. He’d been hunting his entire life, knowing when to hide from a threat and when to confront it head on. Of course, his brother would argue Dean tended to meet threats head on more often than safety allowed, but he trusted himself to know when to take a chance.

This was one of those times. 

He eased himself around the large boulder that shielded his camp, ducking his head out to get a look at the area surrounding his fortress. Nothing moved except the mist that twisted around the fallen rocks, creating a deceitful layer of softness. The mist rose in the distance as the rocks became scarcer, forming a wall of dense fog that could hide a multitude of sins. 

He could make out nothing inside the wall of smoke, his eyes unable to penetrate the almost solid cloud. But he could still hear, and his ears were picking up sounds of movement within the mist. Pulling the knife from his belt, Dean crouched down, allowing his senses to take over as he slipped quietly into the fog.

………………………………………

The smoke was so thick in this area, Sam could barely make out his own hand in front of his face. The mist had started on the floor of the dark forest, creeping up the trees until it surrounded him like a blanket. The forest had thinned as the fog grew thicker, which was a good thing since he could barely see a foot in front of him. He’d started moving at a shuffling gate, keeping his arms outstretched in order to warn himself if he was heading for a collision with a tree. He could hear things moving around, but none of them seemed to be coming any closer to him, and from what Cas had told him about this realm, he’d be out of this smoke soon if he kept moving. He’d checked in with the angel twice already, shocked when the trench-coated being had appeared out of the gloomy fog like an apparition. Cas had told him the next realm they would have to contend with was falling rocks and Sam couldn’t help but imagine Dean buried under a pile of stones, struggling to survive. Cas had reported no luck, flittering away each time to continue the search. He’d promised to call for him if he ran into anything he couldn’t handle, knowing the angels guilt at leaving his brother would be compounded if he lost Sam, too. 

Although he wasn’t looking forward to the realm of rockslides, the smoke in this realm was dense enough to play havoc with his senses, making him wish he’d just find the end of it already. Though it felt and smelled like smoke, it was more like a thick fog that dissipated as he waved his hand through it. He didn’t feel the urge to cough as he breathed it in, making him wonder if he was even breathing at all. The rules of Purgatory didn’t quite jive with the rules on earth, so for all he knew, he could be a moving, thinking corpse with a soul.

He felt more than saw the movement coming toward him but couldn’t react before a large, solid figure crashed into him, driving him down into the solid ground beneath him. He reached for his knife only to be flipped onto his back, cold metal shoved up under his neck.

He’d never felt so relieved in his life.

“Dean!” Who else would be using an actual metal blade in Purgatory? “Dean!” He squinted through the dense fog, trying to see his brother’s face. “Hey, man, it’s me! Sam.”

Sam waited a few moments, not moving, not even breathing as he waited to see if he was right.

“Sammy?”

The voice was barely recognizable, rough and gravelly from obvious disuse.

“Yeah,” Sam couldn’t stop the joy from seeping through into his own voice, pitching it higher than usual. “Yeah, man. It’s me.”

After a moment, the blade shifted away from his neck and he reached up, his hand touching the leather jacket he knew his brother had been wearing when he’d disappeared.

Without warning, Dean backed away, and Sam had to squint to make out his brother’s form in the heavy mist. Time stood still as the two men studied each other. Sam held his breath. He didn’t know what kind of reception he’d expected when he’d finally found his brother, but this wasn’t it. Dean seemed on edge, distrustful, as if he wasn’t sure he could believe what he was seeing. Sam could hardly blame him, but he had no clue how to convince Dean it was really him. That he had truly come to this godforsaken place to find him. Sam had been hunting long enough to know how not to provoke and aggressive opponent, and right now, his normally over-protective brother was just that. This Dean was dangerous, reacting on instinct. So he waited, unmoving, not wanting to invoke a hostile reaction. He jumped when he felt Dean’s hand snake out and grab onto his arm, abruptly pulling the taller man up to a standing position. 

“We’re not safe here. Come on.”

Sam had a thousand questions, but he reached a hand out and grasped hold of his brother’s jacket, tethering himself to his anchor. In that moment, the world seemed to right itself and Sam found he could breathe again. The weight that had settled on his chest for all these months had finally lifted and he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face.

After a few minutes of walking, the smoke had thinned enough for him to make out the outline of his brother’s back. Dean was crouched, his head swiveling as he led the way toward the edge of the smoky realm. It was a Dean Sam recognized. This was Dean on a hunt – stealthy, determined and cautious, his eyes and ears alert, his body thrumming with determination, his senses missing nothing. Sam couldn’t help but think that he seemed more like “Dean” than he had in a long time.

Dean led him to a low outcropping against a towering stone wall at the edge of the smoky realm. The outcropping hid a shallow cave, low and well-fortified. Sam swallowed as he realized this was where his brother had been living. 

Dean motioned for Sam to precede him to the rock wall. As Sam edged past, he couldn’t help throw his arms around his brother and pull him into a tight hug. Dean tensed, not returning the embrace right away, but Sam held on, waiting, knowing his brother’s sense of family wouldn’t allow him to deny the younger man a response. His patience was rewarded when Dean looped an arm around Sam’s back, tentatively returning the hug. Letting go after a moment, Dean pushed Sam forward and with a final look around, hunkered down next to a small, unlit campfire hidden behind a large group of stones.

“Welcome to Casa Winchester,” he said with an awkward grin. “Home, sweet home.”

Sam crouched down against the wall, leaning low to gaze into the small dark space. He nodded, clenching his jaw as he let his eyes roam over his brother’s fortress. Small, easily defended, out of the way… a perfect place to lay low.

To survive.

Dean didn’t look at him, but busied himself poking at the kindling of his campfire. “I knew you’d find a way to get me out. But what the hell were you thinking, Sam? You shouldn’t be here.” He finally turned, one arm resting on an upturned knee and looked at his brother. “How did you get here?”

“St. Peter’s Gate.”

Dean stared as he rolled the answer over in his mind. Finally, he nodded once and turned his attention back to the kindling at his feet. “St. Peter’s Gate,” he repeated. “That’s real?”

Sam snorted a laugh. “The man trapped in Purgatory, fighting the souls of monsters, wants to know if a mythological gate is real.”

It was Dean’s turn to chuckle, a sound that, despite the coldness of the locale, sent a much-welcomed warmth through Sam’s body. “Good point.”

“Yeah, it’s real.” Sam responded. “And even better – it’s a way out.”

“If we can find it.”

“Cas can.”

Dean’s laugh was laced with anger. “Like he’s gonna help us.”

Sam crossed the small space to his brother. “Dean –“

“He left me here, Sam. Alone.” 

Sam wasn’t ready for the scope of Dean’s anger, nor the tight control of his brother’s voice.

“He left to recon, Dean. When he came back, you were gone.” His voice rose as he tried to explain, but found himself wondering why he was even bothering. Dean’s trust in Castiel had been strained at best before the bone weapon had landed them in this godforsaken place. He wasn’t surprised any positive feeling for the angel had been severed considering the circumstances. Besides, Dean’s lack of emotion hadn’t been lost on the younger man. He had cut himself off to survive. Sam couldn’t expect him to simply pop back into ‘old Dean’ just like that. Sam knew enough about psychology to know Dean wasn’t going to be able to decompress until he knew he was safe – maybe not even then. It would take time for his brother to relax, to understand his ordeal was over… once it was over. They still had to get back to the gate. That meant crossing the realms of Purgatory without getting killed.

“Yeah,” Dean responded curtly. “Whatever.” He turned to his brother fully for the first time since he’d found him, standing straight and forcing Sam to rise in response. “It’s not like he left me at Disneyland, Sam. “ Dean’s voice was low, the gravelly cadence sending a chill up Sam’s spine. 

“Why didn’t you call him?” Despite everything, Sam was sure Cas would’ve helped if he’d been able to find Dean. But in all of Purgatory, his powers were weakened, and without a point to focus, the angel had been unable to locate the one human soul amongst monsters.

“Why would I call him?” Dean huffed, incredulously. “In case you forgot, he’s not exactly playing with a full deck lately.” Dean moved off, kicking at the kindling he’d moments before been so carefully arranging. “Besides, after he bailed, I figured I couldn’t count on anyone but me.” He waved a hand around his camp. “And that’s what I did.”

Sam nodded, not wanting to agitate his brother further – not even sure why he’d tried to defend the angel. Dean didn’t trust easily – Sam knew that first hand. But when he did, he did it like he did everything else, wholeheartedly. Once that trust was broken, it was next to impossible for Dean to find it again. He expected others to display the same kind of loyalty he himself exhibited. Unfortunately, few people could live up to the infallible steadfastness his brother was asking.

Not even Sam himself.

But Dean had somehow forgiven him. And he’d vowed to never, ever give his brother reason to doubt him again.

“I get it, you don’t trust Cas,” Sam reasoned. “I’m not saying I do. But we need him to find the gate. Once we get out of here, we can deal with everything else. Agreed?”

Dean looked him in the eye, and Sam could finally see the relief begin to flitter across the familiar face. “Agreed.”

TBC….


	3. Act III

Act III

 

Dean stepped closer to his fortress as his brother turned and called out for the angel. 

Huh. His brother. In Purgtory with him.

Somehow, despite everything that had gone down between them, Dean had known Sam wouldn’t stop searching until he found a way to get him back. And his faith had been rewarded. Sam was here, with a plan – even if it did rely on the unreliable.

Castiel.

Dean felt his anger rise in his throat at thoughts of the angel. He had no idea why he felt so betrayed. After all, it wasn't like Cas was human. Expecting him to behave with human emotions was stupid. He had no understanding of loyalty. No comprehension of what it meant to protect your family. Hell, he probably didn't even understand what the word family even meant.

When he had found out Cas was working behind their backs with Crowley, it was like someone had pulled the floor out from under him. He had never imagined Cas lying right to his face. He had never considered that an angel could be so... manipulative. Of course, he'd never bought into the fluffy wings and bright shiny halo stories, but, Zachariah aside, he had always believed angels were better than the rest of the supernatural crap they dealt with. 

But he was wrong. They were no different. Maybe not evil per se, but corrupt, narcissistic dicks, intolerant of the human's they were supposed to protect. He was better off before the God squad had interfered. Sure Cas had pulled him from Hell, he'd pulled Sam... more or less... from Lucifer's cage and Dean would always be grateful for that, but he'd held out his hand in friendship -- family even -- and had it sliced off.

Never again.

A fluttering of wings to their left had both heads swiveling that direction.

"Hey, Cas," Sam greeted, relieved the angel had shown. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he wasn't entirely sure Cas would come each time he’d called. He truly wanted to trust the angel, but couldn't help the doubt that crept in when he considered how he had betrayed that trust. Sam could only imagine how his brother felt considering they had a 'more profound bond’ – whatever the hell that even meant.

"Sam," Castiel responded in his low monotone. He turned his head toward Dean, a soft smile appearing on his face. "Dean. It is good to see you well."

Dean didn't say anything and Sam couldn't help but notice the clench in his jaw and the narrowing of his eyes.

Cas took a step closer to the older brother, which caused Dean to stiffen even more.

"Dean, I'm sorry --"

"Yeah. I know. Whatever." Dean's tone was harsh, his stance showing no signs of friendship or relief in seeing the angel. "Sam thinks you can get us to the gate."

“Of course.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“Dean,” Castiel reached out a hand, only to have Dean back away, his body tensing as if threatened.

“Cas,” Sam stepped forward, placing himself between his brother and the angel. “Maybe we should get out of here first, huh?” Sam’s concern for Dean’s psychological state had deepened at his reaction to the angel. Dean showed no signs of camaraderie, no outward signs of friendship at all. He looked at Castiel as a threat, something Sam found incredibly heartbreaking considering how much faith Dean had had in the angel before. It made Sam feel even more protective of his brother, wanting to spare him any pain he could whether it be physical or emotional.

Castiel looked at Dean, his confusion at the human’s reaction obvious. “Perhaps you are right. Unfortunately I can only transport one of you at a time.” He turned to Sam, his face apologetic. “I’m afraid my powers have diminished more than I expected. I can transport Dean, then come back for you.”

Before Sam could nod his agreement, Dean stepped forward, his gravelly denial making the younger man jump.

“No!” Dean shook his head, his eyes dark under his furrowed brow. “No way I’m leaving Sam here alone.”

“Dean –“

“No.” Dean’s tone allowed no argument. “I’m not leaving you, Sam. Not here. Don’t ask me that.”

Sam could hear the underlying fear in his brother’s voice. The younger man could only imagine what his brother had been through, and he wanted nothing more than to know Dean was finally safe, but he knew his brother better than that. He couldn’t force Dean to leave him behind, even if it was only for a few minutes, just to save himself.

“Okay,” he reluctantly agreed. “We walk out of here, together.” 

It wouldn’t be easy, but the look of gratitude and relief in his brother’s eyes made the journey seem a little less intimidating.

…………………………………………

They moved into the smoky realm, single file, Castiel in the lead. Dean had grudgingly allowed himself to be in the center with Sam bringing up the rear of their little caravan. They each placed a hand on the shoulder in front of them, forming an odd, shuffling chorus line as the fog thickened.

With his hand on his brother’s shoulder, Sam could feel tension radiating off Dean The older man was coiled like a spring, crouching as if attempting to make himself smaller. Sam couldn’t see his brother clearly thanks to the dense fog, but he knew the hand not attached to Castiel’s trench coat gripped his silver knife, the sharp blade lying flat along the back of his arm, ready to defend against any threat. Living in constant fear of attack for months had made him guarded and vigilant, expecting to have to defend their small entourage at any moment. The thought disturbed Sam. He’d seen Dean like this before, when their lives had been on the line and he’d been completely focused on finding a way to survive, but this was taking it to an extreme. This was a Dean that scared him – all hard edges and careful, calculated awareness. This Dean was all business, no sarcastic quips, no pretense. He’d missed his brother desperately in the months between the final showdown at SucroCorp and now, he hoped he would be able to get him all back once they were safely returned to the real world.

The shadows started coming closer as they progressed from the fog into the dark forest, sometimes reaching out to touch them before retreating quickly from the slash of Dean’s knife. Without losing his grip on Dean’s shoulder, Sam made sure to stay a step back, his eyes wary, not wanting to get in the way of the blade, lest Dean mistake Sam for a threat and swing out of habit. Sam didn’t think his brother would be so careless, but living alone under constant threat for months would make anyone jumpy, and Dean was only human.

Staying behind his brother also gave Sam a chance to observe the older man’s physical state. As the fog thinned, Sam could see more and more of his brother’s form. The fact that Dean was favoring his left leg wasn’t lost on Sam. Dean had always had a swagger, a loose, bow-legged gait, but Sam could tell by the shift of his shoulders alone that he was limping. It didn’t seem too pronounced at the moment, and it hadn’t hampered their progress in any way, so Sam resolved to let it go for now. Whatever injuries his brother had suffered, it was clear he was coping for now, well enough that they could deal with whatever was wrong once they were safe.

As the smoke diminished to low tendrils of mist, snaking around the trees that were becoming more dense, Dean released his hold on Castiel and lightly shook Sam’s hand from his shoulder. Sam felt a tug of loss, but quickly took a step to the side and came abreast of his brother to compensate. They were able to pick up speed with the increased visibility and Sam kept close to Dean’s side, finding himself comforted in this dark realm by the nearness of the one person who had always been his anchor. He desperately wanted to know what had happened to his brother in those long months of separation, but he wasn’t going to push Dean to talk – at least not yet – so he was completely taken by surprise when his brother’s voice broke the silence.

“How long?”

Sam swallowed, knowing the answer would pain his brother as much as it did him. “A couple months,” he admitted. “I figured out where you’d probably ended up pretty quickly.”

Dean turned to him, eyebrows raised in question and Sam shrugged. “Didn’t take a genius, dude. Dick Roman was a monster, monsters go to Purgatory when you gank them. It followed that you got sucked in with him.”

Dean gave him a lopsided grin that spoke volumes 

Geek.

“Anyway,” Sam pretended to ignore the look despite the fact that the sliver of normalcy sent a thrill down his spine. “After you disappeared, Crowley acted like he knew all along what was going to happen.”

“That son of a bitch.”

“Yeah, Sam agreed. His attention toggled between the conversation, his brother’s increasing limp and the ominous shadows that seemed to be multiplying in the darkening landscape. “That’s kind of why I figured you weren’t actually dead.”

“Because Crowley’s a dick?”

Sam snorted a laugh. “Sort of. He looked pretty pleased with himself. And from everything we’ve learned about Crowley, he’s generally happier when he can make someone suffer as opposed to outright ending them. Killing you just didn’t seem like it would be such a thrill for him.”

Dean took a moment before nodding in agreement. “So, what? He just let you go?”

“Yeah.” Sam shrugged. “I don’t know why. He made a smart ass remark about me being completely alone, then he snapped his fingers and he and Kevin disappeared.”

Dean stopped abruptly, one hand grabbing hold of Sam’s arm, forcing the younger man to turn toward him.

“You let him take Kevin?”

Sam noticed Castiel look back, but nodded his head for the angel to continue on. This was between him and Dean and he didn’t think they needed an audience. 

“I didn’t let him do anything, Dean.” Sam tried to control his voice as he defended himself. Now was not the time to get into any kind of pissing match with his brother, but he couldn’t help feeling offended by Dean’s accusing tone. “He knew what was going to happen. He had the advantage. What the hell was I supposed to do to stop him? Huh? I had just watched my brother and an angel get zapped to God knows where, and I was left standing there with that gloating prick. One second he was giving me crap, the next he was gone. So tell me, what exactly did you expect me to do?”

Dean’s lips thinned momentarily, but he quickly backed down, having the grace to look ashamed. His face softened as he realized his brother was right and he dropped his hand, letting it drop to his side. “You’re right. Sorry.”

Sam sighed, letting his anger go immediately. “It’s okay,” he sighed. They turned to resume their trek through the forest. “I figured then that my priority was finding you and Cas. Once everyone was back, we could go after Kevin.” His voice softened and he glanced at his brother. “I just didn’t think it would take so long.”

“You did the best you could, Sammy.” Dean’s voice was still rough, but Sam clearly heard the sentiment in the tone. Sam sighed, relieved. Dean didn’t blame him. He knew his brother would know he was doing everything he could to find him, but hearing Dean say it out loud made the guilt Sam had been carrying lighten somewhat. 

Before he could respond, a shadow lunged from the trees, sliding across Sam’s arm, leaving an icy burn where it touched. It wasn’t painful… exactly… but it wasn’t pleasant, and the shock forced him to take a faltering step back, leaving Dean exposed. Sam watched in horror as the shadow enveloped his brother, forcing the older man back, trapping him against the base of a wide, towering, black tree.

“Dean!” Sam called in fear.

Sam could see his brother struggling against the shadow, trying to move his arms enough to bring the knife up to defend himself against his attacker.

“Cas!” Sam bellowed for the angel who had stopped a slight distance from them while they talked. Without waiting for a response, Sam lunged forward, reaching for the specter that surrounded his brother.

“Silver!” Dean ground out between clenched teeth, and Sam reached for his own knife, slashing it across the surface of the shadow, careful not to cut too deep for fear of harming his brother. The shadow screamed – or at least that’s what Sam imagined the grating, discordant sound to be – and inched back. The movement was enough to allow Dean to maneuver his own knife up in defense.

By the time Castiel had returned to their sides, the shadow had fled, bleeding into the surrounding darkness.

“Are you alright?” the angel asked, his wide eyes moving from one hunter to the other.

Sam nodded, his breath sawing in and out of his lungs, his heart racing. He turned to his brother in time to see him slide down the bark of the tree to the cold ground below,

“Dean?”

Sam kneeled down next to the older man and placed a hand on his shoulder. He was alarmed to feel how badly Dean was trembling beneath his touch.

“Dean?” he repeated, ducking his head in an attempt to catch his brother’s eyes. “You okay? You hurt?”

Dean leaned back against the tree, eyes closed, breaths coming in short gasps. He let his head fall from side to side, but didn’t open his eyes.

“I’m fine,” he managed between painful sounding wheezes of air. “I hate those friggin’ things.”

Sam slumped down next to him in relief, but kept his eyes trained on his brother’s face.

“That happen a lot?” From Dean’s reaction, he’d surmised that this wasn’t the first time he’d battled one of the shadows, but he hoped like hell it hadn’t been a common occurrence.

Dean opened his eyes and gave his brother a quick glance before bringing a hand up to wipe the sudden sweat from his face. “Not really. Most of ‘em stayed out of knife range after the first couple times. But every once in a while one would get brave – or stupid. It wasn’t much fun for either of us.”

Sam remembered the uncomfortable cold burning when it had touched him and shuddered at the thought of that feeling completely engulfing his brother.

“It was a Leviathan.”

Both brothers looked at Castiel with wide eyes.

“You can tell?” Sam asked. He glanced at Dean, his eyes still wide in question.

Dean shrugged. “They all look alike to me.”

“Each soul has its own characteristics,” Castiel explained. “What you see as a black shadow, I see as patterns.”

“Different patterns for different monsters,” Dean concluded. “Sounds like a sitcom.”

Cas gave Dean a look of confusion before continuing. “I had hoped the Leviathan would be more focused on me. But perhaps they are aware it was you who killed their leader and condemned them back to Purgatory.”

“Awesome.” Dean’s tone said it was anything but.

“We should continue,” Castiel encouraged. “Can you travel?” He held out a hand to help the hunter to his feet, but the offer was ignored.

“I’m good.” Dean struggled to push himself up, using the blackened tree trunk as leverage to maneuver himself from the ground. He jumped when Sam reached out a hand to steady him, smiling an apology when his brother frowned in concern.

The shadows kept their distance as they trudged through the rest of the darkened realm, disappearing when they approached the flickering light caused, Sam knew, by the sea of lava. They stopped at the edge of the realm, the searing heat rising, steam and belches of fire hissing and crackling across the molten, ebbing fire, and Sam racked his brain for a way to convince his stubborn brother that Angel Airways was the best alternative.

………………………………………….

Dean stared out across the flowing sea of fire and felt his heart sink into his stomach. He was aware of Cas and Sam on each side of him, but his eyes were focused on the ebbing, molten fluid that roared below the edge of the low rise. A cloud of steam rose, dancing in the heated air, making the expanse of the ocean seem endless. As his eyes traveled out from the edge of the lava, he was able to discern small platforms embedded in the magma, forming a crude, treacherous path across the bubbling, gurgling flow. It wasn’t an inviting path to follow, but it was a way across.

He felt the pain in his knee, knowing the battle with the Leviathan – not to mention the long trek across the realms of Purgatory – had taken a toll on the recently injured joint. It felt loose, unstable, but it had held this long and Dean willed it to hold just a little longer.

“Dean…”

He closed his eyes, the red-orange glow of the lava flashing green on the inside of his lids, He knew what Sam was going to suggest and yes, it would be easier to allow Cas to transport them across this sea of belching fire, but despite knowing it was the best course, he couldn’t bring himself to agree.

The angel stood by siltently, but Dean knew his intense blue eyes were watching him. He could almost feel them boring into the side of his head. But a cold rage still burned when he thought of his former friend. Castiel had betrayed him. Not only by abandoning him here in this place, leaving him alone to fight, to survive, but he’d gone behind his back, subsequently releasing the Leviathan in the first place. Believing he was doing the right thing wasn’t good enough. Dean had begged him not to do it, to think it through, but Cas had chosen not to listen. When he’d finally realized what he’d done, it had been too late.

Sure, he had tried to fix it, but the betrayals, the spying, the lies… they had all been too much. Dean didn’t trust easily, but when he did, he expected the same loyalty in return. He had accepted Castiel as family, and Cas had betrayed that. He’d taken everything Dean could offer and thrown it back in his face.

So despite the fact that his brother wanted him to allow the angel to help them cross this realm, Dean just couldn’t do it. Whether it was to punish Cas or simply innate Winchester stubbornness, he wasn’t sure. Either way, he would rather try and fail then put his trust in the angel again.

“Dean…” Sam repeated softly. “Cas can –“

Dean shook his head, cutting his brother’s plea off at the knees. “There’s a path.” He pointed at the perilous path of stones leading across the lava pool as if Sam hadn’t spoken. “We can make it.” He had turned toward Sam, completely ignoring the angel. He didn’t care if it was rude or childish, he wanted Cas to see that he wasn’t needed. He’d skipped out on him when Dean needed him the most. It was too soon to expect forgiveness. It was too late to make amends.

Sam squinted into the distance, noticing the course of stones Dean was referring to. It was a path… sort of. Dean could tell his brother was not convinced. Each stone was a few feet across at best. From their current vantage point, he couldn’t tell how far apart they were spaced, but the ones nearer the rise looked accessible by long strides or jumps. One wrong step and it was over. He felt guilty, asking Sam to attempt such a dangerous journey, and if his brother wanted to let Cas transport him to the other side, Dean would have no objection, but he was going to cross the lava himself. Stone by stone. No angel mojo required.

“You and Cas go on ahead,” he offered, flexing his knee and leaning forward slightly to rub the aching joint. “It’s okay, I’ll meet you on the other side.”

“Are you nuts?” Sam grabbed his brother’s arm and pulled him up, his eyes alight with the reflection of the pulsing lava. “Do you actually think I would leave your stubborn ass here?”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

Sam huffed a breath out through his nose, trying desperately to control his anger. “I’m not saying you do, Dean. But be reasonable, man. Look at that!” He waved a hand at the bed of fiery heat. “You make one wrong move and you’re toast. Literally!”

Dean grinned at the younger man’s inadvertent joke. “I’m not gonna fall.”

“Why? Because the great Dean Winchester says so?” Sam was amping up for a battle. Dean recognized the signs. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed your leg, Dean. You’ve been limping more and more the further we’ve come. I’ve only been here for a day, man, and the pressure in this place is making me want to sleep for a week. I can only imagine how you’re feeling. You are not at 100%, Dean, so don’t try to tell me you’re fine. We both know you’re not!”

Dean looked away, knowing any claim of health would be rebuked. So, instead, he opted for full disclosure.

“Fine, you’re right. I screwed up my knee a while back when I got caught in a rockslide. It swelled up and took God knows how long to heal. I can’t remember the last time I slept for more than a few minutes and I have no idea how much longer I would’ve lasted before some monster soul got the drop on me. I’m not 100%. I get that. But I’ve made it this far, Sam. Alone. I know there’s a light at the end of this freaking tunnel now. I can make it the rest of the way the same way I’ve made it this far. On my own.”

He glared at his brother, silently praying for him to understand. He wasn’t trying to be difficult. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to prove – or who he was trying to prove it to. He just knew if he was going to leave this place with any kind of self-respect, it would have to be on his own terms. He had no idea how to explain it to his brother, and he had no desire to explain it to Cas. He just couldn’t allow himself to believe in the angel right now. And if that made him stubborn, if that made him a freakin’ idiot, so be it. He told himself he would never allow himself to be duped again. So Cas could do what he wanted, and he had no problem if he made this easier for Sam, but he was determined to do this his way, easy be damned, At least he’d be true to himself. It wasn’t much, but right now it was all he had.

Sam stared at his brother, weighing his words against what he knew was the smart move. It didn’t take a genius to realize Dean was afraid to get burned… and he wasn’t talking about the lava. Dean waited, his chest heaving as his brother considered his options. Finally Sam’s shoulders sagged, and his face softened into something Dean recognized as pity. It was an expression he didn’t like.

“Okay,” Sam said. “We do it your way.” He glanced down at Dean’s knee, his brows rising in question. “You sure you’re up for this?”

Dean took a deep breath, thankful his brother wasn’t going to push the subject any further. “I’ll manage.” He gave his weak smile. “You can still beam out, Spock. I won’t hold it against you.”

Sam chuckled and shook his head. “Why do you get to be Kirk?”

TBC…


	4. Act IV

Act IV

 

The first few stones were reasonably spaced, the heat searing as they began the treacherous journey across the bed of lava. Spouts of fire splashed up as the flow hit the platforms, sizzling as they dripped onto the rocks, cooling quickly once out of the fiery pit. Sam led the way this time with Cas bringing up the rear. Dean knew it was because his brother felt the angel would be more capable of keeping an eye on him, would have a better chance to jump in if his leg gave him trouble.

While the thought of Castiel having to rescue him brought a white-hot anger to the surface, he couldn’t fault his brother for the logic. His knee was weakening, the heat bubbling up around him, making the joint ache more and more every step he took. 

It wasn’t long before the stones became further apart. No longer able to step from platform to platform, they were forced to jump and hop from one to another. Dean knew his knee was not going to hold out for long, each landing sending a wave of pain from his leg to his lower back as he tried to compensate for the weakness.

They were halfway across when the knee gave. A large plume of fire belched up from the side of the platform he was jumping to like a live entity trying to overcome him. He instinctively twisted to avoid the splash of the liquid and landed awkwardly on his left leg, the knee collapsing under the sudden strain. He felt himself tip precariously toward the edge of the stone, his arms pinwheeling as he tried to regain his balance. He heard Sam scream his name, his voice sounding like it was a million miles away.

Dean sent a silent apology to his brother. After everything Sam had done, all he’d gone through to save him, it would be Dean’s own stubbornness that got him killed. He prayed Sam would stay put, not try to come to his rescue. He could accept his own death, but he couldn’t accept being responsible for Sam’s.

As he felt himself topple over the side of the stone, tensing at the expected pain from the fiery lava, Dean instead was engulfed in a cool, white light. A tranquil feeling came over him and he found himself relaxed for the first time in months. He opened his eyes, expecting to see nothing but the red glow of lava, but the white light glowed softly, a feeling of complete safety surrounding him. The heat from the realm was gone, and Dean couldn’t help but wonder if he’d managed to make it back to Heaven this time.

……………………………………

Sam screamed his brother’s name, watching as the stone he was perched on tilted precariously as his weight shifted too close to the edge. He’d been watching Dean’s progress, knowing Cas was doing the same from behind. The stubborn jerk was determined to prove himself, but Sam was just as determined to make sure he survived. He had no idea what Dean was trying to prove. That he was capable of surviving alone? That he could handle anything on his own? That he didn’t need help from anyone? 

Check, check and check. Point taken.

He’d survived months in Purgatory, surrounded by trials and monsters any normal person would’ve given into after a day. Sam had no doubts his brother was the toughest person he had ever known, so there was no need for Dean to prove anything to him.

But, Sam had suspected, Dean needed to prove it to himself.

So he had gone along with his brother’s stupid plan.

And now he was watching him die.

Sam reached out, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop his brother’s topple into the molten lava that ebbed around them. They’d made it three fourths of the way across, he could see the opposite side of the sea, fiery orange splashing against a dark, blackened rise. They’d been so close.

As he watched his brother fall, he was aware of a flash of light, his hand instinctively coming up to protect his eyes. When he lowered it a moment later, he stared in awe at the sight before him.

Castiel stood on the platform Dean had been on, his feet perched firmly on the edge, his wings expanded, flowing forward, surrounding….

“Dean!”

As Castiel’s wings fluttered open, Sam could see his brother’s still, hunched form protected beneath them. The wings disappeared, and Sam blinked, not sure they had ever been there to begin with. He had never seen the angel’s wings.

The power and beauty he had felt was overwhelming. It left him speechless in awe. The angel’s wings were like a painting, a masterpiece, stunning works of art that flickered and shone in brilliant, iridescent colors as they moved. 

It was a sight nearly impossible to describe.

It was a sight he would never forget.

Time slowed as Dean opened his eyes, shock at not being burned alive clearly written on his face. He turned, standing inches from the angel, and realized what had just happened.

Sam couldn’t hear what the angel said to his brother over the roar of the flowing lava, but he saw Dean nod hesitantly in response. After a moment, Dean turned and moved onto the next platform, tilting as he landed, but finding his footing and steadying himself.

Sam looked behind him to Castiel, who simply nodded for Sam to continue. He sighed, knowing the angel wouldn’t let any harm come to his brother. With a quick look at Dean to see that he was moving with more confidence after his near miss, Sam turned and continued on through the fire.

…………………………….

By the time they reached St. Peter’s Gate, all three of them were stumbling, numb and blind with exhaustion. Dean’s knee was throbbing in time with his heartbeat and he’d decided he would give anything for a soothing icepack and a soft bed. It seemed like a lifetime since he’d seen the sun and the light from the gate was, in his mind, a poor substitute for the real thing.

He followed Sam as they stepped to the gate, each eyeing the moving shadows they had passed along the perimeter of the light. Castiel stopped as Sam reached into his pocket and pulled a worn slip of paper.

“I cannot go with you.”

Both brothers turned to the angel in confusion.

“What do you mean you can’t come with us?” Dean asked. “We don’t leave people behind, Cas.”

Castiel looked around, not able to meet the hunter’s eyes. “I cannot leave, Dean. I must remain.”

Dean sighed, he wanted out. He had no desire to debate the finer points of punishment with the angel right now. “Are you freakin’ kidding me? Look, Cas, I get it. You screwed up, you think you deserve this, but I’m telling you, man, you don’t.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Dean, but that’s only part of the reason I must remain behind.”

Sam was becoming agitated himself, not liking the time they were wasting on this side of the gate. Despite the fact that the shadows didn’t seem, to be coming any closer, their experience with the Leviathan, not to mention the other close calls they’d had along the way, made him more than ready to get back to the real world. He knew his brother was nearing the end of his endurance, and, if the lines around his eyes were any indication, the pain in his leg had increased and Sam wanted to get him safe and tucked away before it gave out completely.

“Cas, please. We can work everything out once we get topside.” He gave the angel a pleading look, trying to make him understand how badly he needed to see his brother safe.

Cas shook his head sadly. “As I explained before, Sam, St. Peter’s Gate is a human portal to Heaven and Purgatory. Angels cannot pass.”

“According to who?” Dean asked sharply. “The other friggin’ angels? Since when have they been reliable?”

“God made an exception for you before, Cas,” Sam tried to reason. “Who’s to say He won’t again?”

A screeching noise filled the clearing as three shadows breached the perimeter and entered the circle of light. As they started across the clearing, all three turned their attention to the oncoming threat.

“Cas?”

“Leviathan,” Castiel calmly answered Dean’s unasked question.

“Get us out of here, Sam!”

Sam began to recite the prayer that had brought him here, reaching out and grabbing hold of Dean’s jacket as he swiftly delivered the words. He felt Dean pull away and turned, watching as his brother grabbed the angel and forced him between the two humans just as the gate started to glow. Dean reached around Castiel’s back and latched onto Sam’s arm, and Sam lifted the arm, latching onto Dean’s. As the ground commenced shaking, the light intensified and they ducked their heads praying to a deity they knew wasn’t listening the gate would open in time.

………………………………………….

They spilled out into the basilica, the hard marble floor coming up to greet them as the light flashed out behind them. Lying on his back, Sam became aware of the gasps of shock echoing around him and wedged himself up on one elbow. 

There were at least a dozen people inside the basilica, some sitting, some standing hunched over the pews, all staring, open mouthed at the three men who had just dropped onto the altar platform out of thin air.

“Uh… Dean?” he called quietly, not taking his eyes from the two old ladies who both sat in the front pew, handkerchiefs to their mouths as they gaped at the three men lying prone before them.

Dean was to his left, and Sam could make out a low groan as his brother came to.

“Dean!” he whispered, pushing himself to his feet and shuffling toward his brother.

“What?” Dean asked, his harsh voice bouncing off every wall in the chamber, amplifying it. As the echo reverberated back to them, the older man opened his eyes and slowly took a look around. “Shit.”

Sam kicked him, before leaning down and hauling him to his feet.

“Cas?”

“Go, Sam.” Cas was already standing, obviously surprised at his arrival. “I will handle this.”

Sam nodded tightened his grip on his brother. Dean resisted at first, but with a look to the angel, quietly allowed his brother to lead him out of the church. It was raining outside, and Dean turned his face up to the sky, laughing out loud as the cold drops hit his face. He pulled away from Sam, limping down the steps of the church, his eyes searching and finding the one place he knew he would be safe.

Home.

As he headed for the Impala, Sam couldn’t help but smile.

……………………………………….

As it turned out, one of the people in the basilica had the presence of mind to catch the entire scene on a cell phone. The footage, shaky and out of focus, was run on the evening news, the pretty anchorwoman giving the viewing audience the chance to determine for themselves whether it was real or Memorex. Cas had managed to erase the memories of most of the people who had witnessed their entrance, but one must have gotten out before he waved his magic angel mojo around.

Although the footage could be damaging, the hunters decided it would be impossible to identify anyone and they hoped, as the news anchor suggested, it would be put down as a hoax and forgotten by the morning’s early show. Sam had expressed a fear that it could end up on You Tube, but there was little they could do about that, so they decided not to borrow trouble. 

They had enough of the real thing.

Cas had found them at the motel they’d checked into on the outskirts of Minneapolis. Dean was exhausted, but knew he’d never be able to sleep until he dealt with the angel. He was grateful for what Cas had done for him in the lava realm, but he still couldn’t make himself forgive and forget.

Maybe in time.

But not now.

Castiel was waiting outside, not knowing if he’d be welcome inside the Winchester’s room. Dean took a deep breath and, after a quick look to his brother opened the door and stepped out.

Cas turned to Dean the moment he came out the door, his eyes imploring the man to listen. “Dean, I never meant for this. I am truly sorry for all the pain my actions have inadvertently caused you.”

Dean turned his head to look at the angel but didn’t move any closer. “Inadvertent, huh?” He snorted a soft laugh and shook his head before returning his gaze. “Sure, Cas. Whatever. Apology – if that’s what that was – accepted. OK? So why don’t you go … I don’t know, follow the bees back to Heaven or do whatever angels are supposed to do when they’re not needed on earth, because this,” he waved his hand to indicate the world around him. “Down here? Me and Sammy, we got this.”

Castiel dipped his head, as if trying to get under Dean’s hard gaze. “I would like to help if –“

“We’ll call.” Dean interrupted bluntly. “If we need you. Scout’s honor.” He held up a hand, the tight smile on his face not reaching his eyes. He knew he wasn’t being fair, but damnit, he had the right to be angry. He’d earned it.

Castiel nodded, his face showing his disappointment. “I understand.” He turned to leave, but stopped and lifted his head, his blue eyes locking with Dean’s. “I am sorry, Dean.”

Dean swallowed, his anger draining. He reminded himself of how much Cas had done for them. How he had saved him from Hell. How he had… he sighed. He didn’t hate Cas, and he wasn’t exactly angry he was… just incredibly tired and … sad. “Yeah, Cas,” he responded. “Me, too.”

The angel disappeared in a flutter of wings and Dean stared into the empty night, wondering if he would ever feel the same sense of trust for Cas again. He pulled his jacket tighter around him, crossing his arms across his chest and leaned back against the Impala. 

“You okay?”

Dean huffed a breath of air through his nose, letting his lips turn up into a grin.

Sam approached and leaned back next to his brother, his eyes trained on the parking lot before them. “I know. Dumb question.”

Dean nodded in response. “I’m okay, Sammy.”

Sam ducked his head, trying to hide the grin the nickname inspired. He was so happy to have Dean back by his side he couldn’t help himself. He knew Dean was having a hard time forgiving Cas for everything – the Leviathans, Dick, Bobby, abandoning him in Purgatory – and he wasn’t sure if Dean would ever be able to fully trust anyone ever again. But for the moment, he was so grateful to have his brother back safe and sound, he couldn’t work up enough anger or resentment to agree. “Our lives suck.”

“Yeah.” Dean shifted beside him, moving closer until their shoulders touched. “But maybe that’s the point.”

Sam furrowed his brows and turned his head toward his brother. “Huh?”

Dean shrugged. “I’ve been thinking. We’ve been to Heaven, to Hell and now, to Purgatory… we’ve fought monsters, demons, angels… we’ve seen more of this world than most people even believe exists.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “I figured something out, in Purgatory, fighting those damn monster-souls. It mattered.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“Everything we did. Everything we killed. Our whole lives, man, we made a difference.” Dean was warming to the subject, his voice gaining strength as he tried to explain what he had finally come to realize. “As I was fighting those monsters down there, all I could think of was the fact that I was glad they were locked away where they couldn’t hurt anyone ever again. No matter how bad it got, it helped just knowing that I’d put them there. That we’d put them there – out of reach of good people. We saved those people, Sammy. Whether anyone knows it or not, through the pain and the loss and the…crap we’ve gone through, we’ve truly made a difference. What we’ve done matters. How many people can really say that?”

Sam shook his head, not following the older man’s train of thought. “How exactly does that not suck, Dean? I mean, when do we get to be happy?”

Dean shrugged again, his eyes rising to watch the stars twinkling above them “Happy is relative, man. I mean, you had Jess, right? You got to know what all that love stuff was about for a little while. I had a year with Lisa and Ben, --” 

Dean’s voice broke for a moment and Sam held his breath, waiting for him to continue. It was rare for his brother to open up like this, and he didn’t want to do anything to spoil the exceptional look into his brother’s state of mind.

“Even though I was just going through the motions for most of it…” Dean’s voice returned, soft and low. “Every once in a while, I’d realize that I’d actually been in the moment, you know? Like I’d forgotten who I was and became just an ordinary guy in an ordinary moment. And I guess I finally realized that those moments were great, but they weren’t any better than some of the moments we had with Dad, or Bobby, or just you and me.” 

He glanced over to Sam, his eyes shining in the dim light, but his face peaceful for the first time in a long while. 

“Those moments were different, but they were still moments.” He tightened his arms across his chest and returned his gaze back to the night sky. “So maybe that’s what we need to do. Stop wishing for a lifetime of great – for something we know we’ll never have – and just live those moments the best we can.”

Sam thought about what his brother had said. Gradually realizing he was right. Their lives did suck, but it was all they had and there were moments within it that he wouldn’t change for anything. He shrugged, his gaze never leaving his brother’s profile. “So, lower our expectations?”

“Or maybe just move them a little closer to our version of reality.”

Sam nodded slowly, finding he could live with that. “That’s not – not a bad way to look at it.”

Dean took a deep breath and sighed, leaning further into his brother. “That’s why I’m the brains of the outfit, little brother.”

Sam smirked, a soft but heartfelt laugh escaping him. “So what now, Einstein?”

Dean shrugged and turned to his brother, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Cas left a pretty big mess. Dick Roman may be gone, but getting rid of the Leviathans and getting me back topside is only a start.” He clapped Sam on the shoulder, a look of familiar purpose gleaming in his eyes. “Sammy, we’ve got work to do.”

The End…

TBC … in ‘ficisode’ 2, “Kevin Isn’t Too Far Away” which will begin next Tuesday.

I will admit, not everything from season 8 was a waste. I have incorporated some of the ideas that did work within the canon season 8 into these stories so it isn’t entirely AU, and I promise to leave you at the doorstep of season 9. It’s the only way I found to look forward to the next season after the disaster I found season 8 to be. 

**Holds up hand, places other on John Winchester’s Journal** I promise to have no contrived drama between the boys – they are brothers, and fundamentally different people, so they won’t always be in tune, but there will be no unnecessary drama inflicted that takes away from the theme of the plot and no ignorance of mythology that has been established prior. 

So I invite you to sit back and join me on this alternate adventure, where canon is suspended so that we may find the brothers we’ve come to know and love. ☺ Hope you enjoy reading these as much as I enjoyed writing them.


End file.
